


Bubblegum Bitch

by owllover625



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: M/M, SO, thats neato, the only cursing is in reference to the song?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-07-13
Packaged: 2018-07-23 16:44:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 981
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7471329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/owllover625/pseuds/owllover625
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack puts up with a lot of shit. Bitty’s song choices are no different. Bitty loves lots of songs. Jack loves lots of silence. </p>
<p>-or-</p>
<p>The one where Jack hates Bubblegum Bitch but Bitty loves it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bubblegum Bitch

**Author's Note:**

  * For [abracadaniel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/abracadaniel/gifts).



Jack puts up with a lot of shit. Bitty’s song choices are no different. Bitty loves lots of songs. Jack loves lots of silence. Bitty has a Spotify playlist when he bakes, and one of these songs puts Jack over the edge for no reason. That song is Marina & The Diamonds’s “Bubblegum Bitch”. Bitty doesn’t care if Jack comes into the kitchen while he bakes, but if the music’s already on, it's staying on and that’s final.

Bitty was baking, unsurprisingly, when Jack sauntered in. He didn’t mind the first few songs that played. Then, that song started. “Gotta a figure like a pin-up, got a figure like a doll!” Marina sang shamelessly, and of-fucking-course so did Bitty. “Queentex, latex, I’m your Wonder Maid,” Bitty’s hips and bum swinging to the song’s own accord. 

While Jack couldn’t ignore the pure sexiness of the song, or the dance that went with it, Jack couldn’t stand the damn song. “Eric Richard Bittle, turn this fucking song off before I break up with you eh,” he warned, no real malice behind his voice. But Bitty rolled his eyes mouthing the words, his hips rolling, his hands locked above his head, much like Shakira, and staring right into Jack’s blue eyes. 

The thing about Bitty is, he refuses to curse. (“Now what would Moo-Maw say if she heard me? Oh, bless her dead soul!”) So the only time he’ll say anything meaner than “bless your heart” is during this one song, and Jacks finds it low-key hot. 

When the song ends, so does Bitty’s dancing, and Jack isn’t sure to love the song or to hate it even more. He chose the latter.  
——————————————————————————————————————————

Another time the song plays is when they’re in the car. Bitty begs to drive. He hasn’t driven all winter in fear of driving in snow, so the southerner takes the wheel from the drive from Providence, Connecticut to Mad River Valley, Vermont to visit the Round Barn Inn. 

There’s one rule in the Zimmermann Car. That one rule is Driver Picks the Music. No exceptions. That’s because Jack Zimmermann is always the one driving. Always. Even Shitty, his best friend, has never driven his car, that means that Jack never had to fix the rule to Jack picks the music. Jack is childish and he knows it. “Eric- I wanna play the music,” he bitched from the passenger seat. “Oh Honeysuckle, weren’t you the one who came up with that one rule? I’m just tryin’ to follow ‘em,” his smirk was unmistakable. Jack, too proud to comment, just shut up and listened to the Beyonce on the car radio. 

It was just about a four-hour car ride and around the first hour and a half, nothing happened. Until Bubblegum bitch came on the radio, Bitty didn’t respond, just hummed along like he had every other damn song on this never ending playlist. “Oh hell no, Bitty, this song isn’t playing in my car,” Jack groaned, he had his captain voice on again, stern and making Bitty shuttered a little bit every time he heard it,(that wasn’t in the bedroom of course.) But Bitty stayed strong and wouldn’t change the song, just sang the song quietly under his breath, ignoring everything the Canadian had to say. 

———————————————————————————————————————————

Bittle knew how to put up the Sawmill Men’s Hockey Team. Standing at a pathetic 5’6.5” (168.91 centimeters) and 125 pounds (56.699 kilograms), not only was he the smallest member, he also was the skinniest by at least 25 pounds(12 kilograms). He knew when they said “eat more protein” he’d bake their favorite dessert and not let them eat any until they said sorry. (He ain’t a monster, he knew they’d get some even if they didn’t say sorry, but nobody else knew that.)

Even the Tadpoles had taken up the entertainment that was making fun of Bitty. Hell, even Whiskey does it. Whiskey! The boy who hangs out with the lacrosse team, the LAX team! That’s sacrilegious.

One day, during one of their few days off, Bittle was baking like there was no tomorrow. He was standing onto of Betsy, (the oven) when Whiskey laughed at him from behind. “Oi! Ever tried eating protein, heard that shit helps!” And he laughed, Bitty frowned, “Now that’s just plain mean, seeing how I’m making your favorite, peach cobbler,” he declared, having grabbed a few pans from the top shelf and hoping down, hitting him with a pan on the shoulder. 

Later that day, there was an early dinner was made and the table was set by a helpful Chowder, Shitty (who popped by once he heard Bitty was cooking some cobbler), and Jack (who always came to Sunday meals when he could in the Haus house). Chicken and fried rice were for dinner, and a large dessert to come afterward. Everyone attacked both meals, and when Whisky went for a piece of peach cobbler, Bitty stopped him. Jack was like a proud mama bird who had finally watched her birds fly for the first time. (After he apologized, he, of course, got the last piece of cobbler, much to everyone’s dismay.) 

After dinner, the table scatters. Some go to clean and wash dishes (because Bitty is starting a rule where “if the kitchen ain’t clean, he ain’t bakin’” and others go to go play cards in the living room, and Shitty and Lardo go make-out on the back porch. Bitty and Jack go into Johnson’s old room and make out (after turning on the music of course).

After a couple of minutes of praise coming from Jack (“You’ve never made me so proud,” “This is better than the time you checked someone that time in the hockey game,”). Bubblegum Bitch starting echoing from the makeshift speaker Bitty has at the side of the bed. 

The kissing immediately stopped. “Eric, I hate you.”


End file.
